Lupus (A True Neutral Playthrough)
by OhGodAGirl
Summary: There is no evil, no good, no wrong or right. There is only middle ground. Walk with Falia, a shapeshifter, as she uncovers the history of her heritage...and her legacy.
1. Prologue

_One, two, three, four..._

Every step I take must be counted. The rhythm helps keep me sane, keeps me distracted. It's not that I fear what will happen - it's that I fear I will enjoy it.

_Five, six, seven, eight..._

Eight moons. Eight moons since I was brought within those walls. I've counted every cobblestone on the Garrison path: one-hundred and thirty seven. I've counted the tears in Dreppin's shorts: six, not including the makeshift belt loop. I've counted the exact number of beers Imoen needs to drink to start tabletop dancing. But there's one thing I refuse to count. Just. One.

_Nine, ten, eleven, twelve..._

To say that I loved Gorion would be a gross understatement. I worshipped every pebble he walked on, and how could I not? He sheltered me, taught me, helped me to understand this duality inside. 'Falia, no matter what happens, you are in control. It is, after all, your body.' And he was right, in a way.

To me, Gorion was on part with the gods. But...the wheezing as he conquered the monastery steps each day; _thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen...; _the chills that ravaged him in winter's dawn; _seventeen, eighteen, ninteen..._; the look of confusion when he tried to recall certain names, certain places, and sometimes who I even was; each day, Gorgion reminded me of his humanity.

_Twenty._

And then I lost him.

I was _livid_. Knowing that I left my idol, my father, to his death? Not a waking moment goes by where I don't wish to change the past.

But I can't.

So instead, I change the future.

_Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four..._

We're meeting each other's gaze head on. I can see that uncertainty: the cold, calculating cogs clinking away in his mind. Sarevok is scared, and I want this moment to last. For him to bathe in these _disgusting _emotions, swelter in them until their fetid fumes consume him in the very humanity he so despises.

Twenty-five scars, etched into his gauntlet. Twenty-six hours since I'd said goodbye to my companions. Twenty-seven _months _since I'd left Candlekeep.

He draws his sword; I draw my claws. All I can hear beyond Lupus' roar is his echoed words from my lips:

**You. Will. Learn.**


	2. Memories

You've been like this for as long as you can remember; neither human nor animal, it's a wonder the residents of Castlekeep took you in. But they did, with open arms, and despite your unusual talents you felt normal. You trained studiously to hone your talents under Gorion's instruction. A Shapeshifter was your calling, and while you could not maintain the form for very long, the mere fact that you could grow claws and fangs at a whim was more than enough to excite you and your best friend, Imoen.

Now you stand on the cusp of adulthood, with only books and friends to guide you away from succumbing to your feral side.

* * *

'Falia?'

The wereling snarled in reply, warning her not to move closer. She would rip out her throat, and it would taste so good, so delicious, it would be luxurious and rich and taste just like honey and raspberries...

'Falia, it's me. Imoen.' The little thief girl edged closer and Falia struck out. **_Do not TOUCH me_**. But Imoen kept pestering her, coaxing her. Stupid. She couldn't accept this is what you were. This is what you had become.

'Leave 'er alone, lass,' warned Montaron, steadily backing away himself. 'She's gone.'

'No!' Imoen turned, leaving her back exposed, and Falia leaped.

It was quick, and brutal, and satisfying, and oh god, what had she done, what was she doing? Sinew melted, bone splintered, and Lupus howled in victory. Imoen's screams were glorious, were intoxicating, and the others rushed forward in vain but Falia swept them aside. Edwin summoned a prison of stone, but the damage was done; Imoen's arm was hanging loosely, and she wouldn't be with the party much longer.

'What have you done, you stupid beast!' Screamed Xzar, racing to Imoen's side. He clutched his hair and pulled it out in handfuls, the sickening scrunch of scalp leaving skull stirring Falia's heart. 'You stupid, stupid, stupid beast, _what have you done?!_'

And before anyone could calm him, Xzar was upon Falia, punching uselessly with his fists. Edwin tightened the stone cuffs around Falia's limbs, but did little to stop the crazed Necromancer. Khalid and Jaheira looked on in horror, and Montaron was at Imoen's side, applying pressure and snarling at the 'druid to do some damn healing'.

_Kill, kill, slaughter, kill, blackest black of darkest dark, what shall we slaughter next?_

_**No...**_Falia's voice was weak. Lupus curled those hideous flaps of skin upwards into some grotesque mockery of a smile. _No? No, no, she screamed, and look what the no's did. The no's have it, or is it the eyes? The eyes are certainly my favorite part!_

_**Stop...**_

_Kill and rend, slaughter and stab, I'll show you the true beauty of the beast, my little pup._

Xzar kept bashing, his fists starting to draw ugly welts on the wolf's pelt. 'You stupid beast! What have you done with the little girl? Let her out! Let her out! We don't eat little girls! We leave little red for Grandma!'

Before she could shut her maw, Lupus spoke: 'She was delicious, like your mother.'

And Falia remembered no more, for Xzar in one swift motion pulled a silver dagger out and stabbed.

* * *

_Is this..._

_Death?_ Imoen stood beside Falia, cheerful as always. _Nah, you'd think heaven would be a little less dull. This is just the waitin' room._

'I'm sorry,' Falia managed to choke.

Cold and wetness was her reply.

'Up!' snapped Edwin, more tempered than usual. The Red Wizard paced back and forth, fingers working the buttons and tassels of his cape. 'Under different circumstances, I'd be delighted you walked this path. Do you realize what you've done, girl? You've just made enemies with every well armed adventurer on the Sword Coast. The mad 'mancer nearly ended you!'

'You should have let him,' Falia said weakly.

The wizard slapped her, hard. 'Stupid. Stop the self pity. This has gone long enough.'

And it had, but what did it matter? Imoen was dead. As far as Falia was concerned, she'd go live with the Xvarts until the wild took her over.

'We put an end to this, now. I'll not have you die.'

'Why?!' Lupus tensed beneath her feet. 'Why?! I killed. I am a _killer_. And you know what's the worst part, Edwin? I_ enjoyed_ it.'

'So?'

'S-so?! I enjoyed-'

'Oh, get over yourself, stupid druid girl. You think you are the first to succumb to the darkness? Did you not read in that dusty little keep of yours? You made a mistake - a big one - but you can correct it. Or, you can take the easy path out and repeat it. Really, I'm rooting for the latter, but knowing your apparent adoration for good morales and what have you, I figure that's not the path you'd like to take.'

'There is no coming back from this.'

Falia was trying the wizard's patience. He grabbed her neck, forcing her gaze to his. 'Then don't. I'll end you myself. Just say the word.'

_Falia, no!_

Lupus shifted in her shoulders. He shifted in her hands. She felt him shifting behind her eyes, but the image of Imoen kept him at bay, snarling and howling in the nothingness. End it. End it. But she couldn't get the words to form, because Imoen, sweet, annoying, indescribably insufferable Imoen was begging her, pleading her, to fight.

Edwin saw her internal struggle. He spat on her, and walked away, leaving nothing but darkness to comfort the shifter.

The voice played back in her mind. You will learn. You will learn.

Yes, she would. For Imoen.


End file.
